


Retro Skates

by caswell



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Rollerblades & Rollerskates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 08:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12744654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caswell/pseuds/caswell
Summary: There's nothing better an (accidental) first kiss in a cherished roller rink to make Jeremy's day.





	Retro Skates

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to lesbianmichaelmell for the idea! I hope it lives up to your expectations.  
> Also, thank you so much to those who helped me out with writing (jaufeaa, @michaeimells, and... lee whose twitter/tumblr i dont know ;w;) !! You guys are th e best and really made this fic a lot better!

Michael and Jeremy have been to the skating rink plenty of times during their thirteen years of friendship. There were at least five school trips to it over elementary school and middle school, and between them, probably six more birthday parties there - not to mention the times they’ve used it as just another hangout spot. It doubles as an arcade, too, so it’s pretty much the most entertaining place in their small New Jersey town if you don’t get invited to house parties.

Despite their mutual familiarity with the skating rink, it’s an entirely different place when they’re there as a couple - or so it seems to Jeremy. Suddenly, he can see the love swarming around them. Look, there- a boy, clearly an expert on rollerskating, lifts a girl up into the air, spins her around, kisses her. In the arcade, two boys holding hands huddle around a claw machine, the one on the right trying desperately to capture a soft-looking yellow teddy bear as he maneuvers the joystick with just one hand. Two girls sit and eat snacks at the tables near the rink, popping chips into each others’ mouths and laughing. It’s… invigorating, but scary, too; Jeremy feels vulnerable, hypervisible, painfully aware of every move he makes.

“Hey, Jer, you doin’ alright?” Michael asks, and Jeremy comes back to reality. He squeezes his boyfriend’s hand and nods, giving Michael a crooked smile.

“Yeah, man,” he says. “Just, like. We’re holding hands in public and stuff. We haven’t really done that before?” It’s summer- perfect time for hanging out in a place like this- so the two of them haven’t gotten the chance to hold hands at school or anything of the sort. “Just a little nervous. Sorry.”

Michael squeezes his hand and returns Jeremy’s smile tenfold. “Hey, it’s all good! Look, nobody’s paying us any mind. It’s alright, dude.”

Jeremy looks around at the small crowds of people gathered here and there. Michael's right; everyone's absorbed in their own thing- not a single pair of eyes is on them. “...Alright. Alright,” he says a little louder, coming out of his shell now. “You remembered our skates, right?”

Michael gives Jeremy a flat look and holds up the bag in his hand, clearly containing two sets of skates. “I’ve had them on me this whole time,” he says.

“Oh, yeah, right.” Jeremy laughs nervously. “Okay, no, I’ve for real got it.”

Clapping Jeremy on the back with one hand, Michael cracks a grin and says, “Yeah, man.” Jeremy’s only left hanging for a moment before Michael takes his hand again and leads him to one of the tables near the rink.

Jeremy’s skates are clunky and a little ratty, the white now fading into a gross yellow-grey in some areas, but he’s fond of them anyway. They’re vintage; they’d been in his father’s parents’ attic since the 80s until Jeremy found them, stashed up there because, well, his dad didn’t end up being the athletic man he’d always wanted to be. For that and that alone, they’re probably among his most prized possessions- he loves the novelty of the oldness, the classic style of the time. He pulls them on (somewhat painfully) over his heels and laces them up.

“Need help?” Jeremy looks up to see his boyfriend outstretching a chivalrous hand. He gives a goofy, lovestruck grin as he pulls Jeremy up, and Jeremy dares, just for a second, to press a quick kiss to Michael’s cheek. “I’ll take that as a thank you,” Michael says.

Jeremy flashes Michael a toothy smile as he intertwines their fingers momentarily, though his palm is a little grossly sweaty. He hopes to every god out there that Michael doesn’t notice. “You ready?”

“Born ready,” Michael says, and shoots Jeremy with finger guns and a charming beam of a smile. He’s always had sort of a cocky demeanor when he’s around Jeremy, but Michael is genuinely talented at roller skating - his balance is surprisingly good, and his motions are fluid; he seems to lose himself on the rink, and it’s mesmerizing… to Jeremy, at least. Other people, they don’t appreciate Michael enough; it’s something they can both agree on.

With increasingly long strides- it always takes him a bit to get used to his skates- Jeremy makes his way to the rink, Michael just ahead of him. It feels great to get out there again; he's older than a good chunk of the crowd, but that helps him feel less self-conscious, oddly enough. He's technically a senior now, and that means that he's untouchable by anyone who's a sophomore or below. Hesitantly, Jeremy reaches out and takes Michael's hand and tries to work together with him, legs moving in sync. 

“You're doing great, Jeremy,” Michael says, smiling, and Jeremy melts. “Hey, keep it up and someday you'll be half as good as me.”

Jeremy promptly un-melts and sticks out his tongue. “You suck, Micha.”

“Aw, you love me, though,” Michael replies smoothly.

Well, that's true. Jeremy does happen to be absolutely head over heels in love with Michael, even though they haven't even had their first kiss yet. Not on the lips, anyway, which is completely different from kisses on the cheek, which, in turn, are completely different from nose kisses, hand kisses, neck kisses, and so on and so forth. ...Not that Jeremy doesn't think about doing it 24/7, because he certainly does- and it doesn't stop at kisses, because come on, it's  _ Jeremy _ \- but he still hasn't worked up the guts to do it. Michael's teasing doesn't help; his rate of lip-licking and sucking on various hard candies and slushie straws has seemingly increased tenfold since the two of them got together. Asshole.

“Yeah, I do,” Jeremy says, and rolls his eyes.

They continue on like that for about fifteen minutes, carrying on small conversations as they glide across the urethane-coated floor. Well, gliding isn’t exactly the right word- Michael’s pretty damn good at skating, but Jeremy… it’s hit or miss for him. He seems to be doing well today, but the last time they were there, he face-planted and narrowly avoided chipping a tooth. He  _ did  _ bite down hard on his tongue, though, and had to spend a good ten minutes in the bathroom spitting out blood and crying a little while Michael rubbed his back. He’s never been very manly.

Jeremy is in the middle of telling Michael about the dream he had the previous night involving Carly Rae Jepsen and a moat full of crocodiles when the loudspeakers turn on with a fizzle of static. The two boys look up toward the ceiling expectantly, and a moment later, the familiar voice of the DJ comes over the airwaves:  _ “Is everyone ready for a couples’ skate!?”  _

“Aw, man,” Jeremy groans. “Alright, let’s clear out ‘til the song’s done. We can get a slice of pizza or something.”

Michael stares at Jeremy for a few moments, amused, before saying, “Uh, Jer? You know we’re a couple, right?”

Jeremy blinks his wide eyes, then grins wide. “Oh, my God, we are!” he exclaims, flapping his hands in excitement. “First couples’ skate!”

“First couples’ skate!” Michael echoes, and takes Jeremy’s hand. They watch the single skaters drift, disgruntled, off the rink, then turn to smirk at each other.

Some cheesy love song comes on the speakers, one that Michael’s always complained about-  _ “It’s on the radio way too much, Jer! And it’s rude! If I wanted to dance with someone, I wouldn’t tell tell them to shut up!”-  _ and it’s absolutely fucking perfect. Jeremy’s heart soars as he skates precariously side-by-side with Michael  _ (his boyfriend! His boyfriend, oh my God!),  _ hands resting gently on the smalls of each other's’ backs. Michael leads him carefully, matching his speed to the tempo of the song, and, oh man, he hardly noticed but now Michael’s holding his hands and skating backwards like the talented bastard he is, and-

And suddenly Jeremy’s leg goes flying out from under him, through no fault of Michael’s, and he’s tumbling backwards onto the ground, and the wind is knocked out of him as he lands with a grunt. A weight lands on top of him and against his lips, sweet but rough from gravity, and he realizes that oh, Michael was still holding onto him, and now he’s on top of him. Whoops. Nice, but whoops. And, holy shit, it's their first kiss.

Jeremy can feel Michael's kiss turn from accidental to purposeful, cocking his head slightly to the left and opening his mouth a little. It's great. It's fantastic! But Jeremy can't fucking breathe. He kisses him until his breath is gone, but eventually, Jeremy's pushing Michael off of him and inhaling sharp and desperate. 

“Oh, dude, oh, man,” Michael says, nigh incoherently, “that was our first kiss.”

“My entire body hurts,” Jeremy groans. He hauls himself upright, almost tripping again, but manage to stand on wobbly legs. Waving apologetically to the skaters who have to swerve around the mess of them, he says, “Yeah, it was, though.”

“You… wanna go do it again?” Michael asks as he rights himself, significantly more graceful than Jeremy had. “'Cuz it's gonna get crowded here again pretty soon.”

Jeremy weighs the options. They'd come here to skate, and he does enjoy it even  if he falls sometimes, but his body is in little shape for skating to be pleasant at the moment, and- aw, who's he trying to kid? “Fuckin’ absolutely,” he says, and they're off on bruised legs.

 

That is, of course, easier said than done. They have to complete their loop on the rink, and Jeremy’s still a bit achy from the fall, so Michael’s got one hand wrapped around his waist in an awkward half-hug looking thing to guide him, making sure he doesn’t trip again. Jeremy had made an attempt to actually skate with him again, but Michael put an immediate end to it, saying, “No, dude, just take it easy. That looked like it hurt.” 

Eventually, they make it onto the carpeted area at the side of the rink, and Jeremy flops, exhausted, onto one of the benches. Without waiting for Michael, he fumbles with his rollerskates and eventually gets them off his feet, setting them on the ground beside him. “God, I love rollerskating,” he says, “but these skates are killer.”

Michael rolls his eyes as he sits down, somewhat more dignified, next to Jeremy. “See, I told you it’s not a good idea to use someone else’s skates, no matter how from-the-eighties they are. No wonder your feet hurt all the time.”

As Michael undoes the laces of his rollerskates, Jeremy leans against him, pouting a little. “Micha, hurry up,” he urges impatiently. “We can’t kiss out here in the open.”

“Why not?” Michael asks, not looking up. “Did they pass a law against PDA?”

That earns Michael a jab in the side with one of Jeremy's bony elbows. “I just don't think I'm ready for that yet,” he admits. “Like, we can't just-” he lowers his voice-” _ make out  _ in front of everyone. That'd be creepy.”

“Oh, so we're making out now, huh?” Michael says, finally looking up and wiggling his eyebrows in his typical Michael fashion. “That's news to me.”

“Mi _cha,_ stop teasing for like, one second, will you?” Jeremy says, and Michael flashes him an apologetic look. “So I want to make out, is that so wrong? ...Or surprising?”

Michael's tone turns more genuine as he says, “No, it's not wrong, dude. I wanna make out with you too.” He kicks off his skates and sighs in contentment. They're not particularly fun for anyone. “There. Happy?”

“Very,” Jeremy says, and gives Michael a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Now come on, because I’m about to die.” Yeah, he’s pretty useless in that regard, but look, he’s practically a kiss virgin. These things happen.

Another testament to his uselessness: Jeremy can hardly keep his lips off of Michael- and it’s mutual. The bathroom isn’t too far, but they manage to fit about five kisses into the short trek: one kiss on the back of Jeremy’s hand, two kisses on Michael’s cheek, one kiss on Jeremy’s forehead, one long, hard kiss as Michael pulls Jeremy between two arcade cabinets. Miraculously, they finally make it to the quaint, somewhat stifling men’s room.

Their skates, piled again into the white plastic bag, are deposited temporarily in the corner of the bathroom as Michael curls his fingers into Jeremy's hair, kissing him hard. They're both a little sloppy- especially Jeremy, who's wholly inexperienced- but it’s actually kinda nice. In fact, Jeremy decides that sloppy kisses are his favorite. They’re pretty hot. 

“Why didn’t we do this before?” Michael breathes, taking a momentary break, though his lips remain hardly an inch away from Jeremy’s.

“I- I was scared,” Jeremy says. “I thought I’d do it wrong or something.”

“Aw, man, Jer, I was waiting for you!” Michael pauses a second, thinking. “That was probably a stupid idea.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy says, dragging out the single syllable, and laughs apologetically. “Well, we- we can make up for it! Kiss me!”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Michael says, and he does, and oh God, it’s fucking  _ good.  _ Does he have experience? The handsome bastard, he probably does. The hypothesis is only given more evidence when Michael presses his knee between Jeremy’s thighs. When Jeremy tenses up, he asks, “Ah. Sorry, is that too much?”

Well, it’s a little frightening, especially considering they’re kinda-sorta in public and someone could walk in on them any minute, but Jeremy is absolutely and 100% up for makeouts with Michael. So, he shakes his head, and says with a grin, “You’re good.”

_ “Awesome,”  _ Michael says, voice low, and Jeremy dies a little inside in the best way.

 

They get kicked out of the bathroom, eventually. A soon-to-be sophomore that Jeremy vaguely recognized had walked into the room and shrieked a little in surprise at the sight of Michael pressing Jeremy firmly against the carpeted wall, the lone security guard heard him and came running, and the two were subsequently kicked out on their asses and subjected to a lecture about using bathrooms appropriately. _ “But what if I have to pee?”  _ Michael had whined, to no avail.

“So, what do we do now?” Jeremy asks, dejected, as they sit down at one of the tables. He drops the bag containing their skates gracelessly on the perforated surface with a  _ clunk.  _ “I know we came here to skate, but, like…  _ damn.” _

Michael nods, understanding Jeremy’s feelings from just the simple word. “I know, right? But we can’t make out in the bathroom forever.” He shrugs. “...You wanna try it in the arcade?” 

“I think I might die if I don’t.”

“Now  _ that’s  _ what I like to Heere!”

“...I change my mind.”

(Spoiler alert: he changed it back.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I love you!!  
> If you liked this fic please do check out my others bc I like them a lot better!  
> Also this is entirely based off of the Wooddale Fun Zone, if you're in the Twin Cities you should totally go, it's adorable.


End file.
